in a dream my mother bought seven cats and
five dogs, after going mad with grief.
all the while you’re mindfully dead.
Beijing is cold this year. My room is without
light and my parents sleep under
my best nightmare, worse than double covers. They’re digging your
dream of hands, out, maybe? I wonder
what they can do that frozen
earth.

I hope I can feed you another churu. you who were never not gentle except
when you scratched mom.
omen perhaps? I am not the one to invoke
precocious animal minds especially
after their death. how do I tell this
story and the present of tears and
screaming and
odes
ballads
haikus the 20 I got
from them. I hope you can hear
me from there. I’m never not talking
to you
Inside.
I’d let you in
me and my lover’s bedroom a million
times if you’re back. Yet I forgot
you’re
dead.
you’re
dead.
ghosts pass
through doors.
Watch me sit on the toilet again.
Little voyeur.
You.

Yufan Lu (they/them) is a bisexual aro-spec ace-spec writer from Beijing, China. They’re a recent graduate of Kenyon College and a current M.A. student at the University of British Columbia. Their works can be found in The Quarter(ly), ANMLY, manywor(l)ds, and beestung, where they're nominated for Best Microfiction 2026. They can be found on Instagram @yufan.8076 and on Bluesky @yluilu.bsky.social.

Lopsided